A Father and Two Sons
By Charles Fishman

Jones Beach - July 1999

What is a father, and what is love?
Maybe it is the going out of the self
that certain men can do
when they put their children first
when they attend to the needs
of the little ones: the soul fed
with experience, as when this father
sails a striped beach towel
over his tiny son's head
over that two-year-old nakedness
closing them in to a holy space
only they can share:
under this floating pavilion,
a safe universe is born.

Or perhaps it is the same father
with his elder son, a 5- or 6-year-old,
at the blurred edge of the Atlantic.
Courage must be taught--
and caution: a backward flop
into the foam-tipped waves
a dive through the shallow chop
no safety net but the unspoken:
I am here and I will not let you drown.
This father stands on his hands
in the sea brine, unlikely gift of fearlessness
and balance, and both sons hear what the sea
whispers: I will not let you swim into your life
without direction.